


Ástvinur (Loki x Reader)

by longliveloki



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Love, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longliveloki/pseuds/longliveloki
Summary: You had always lived peacefully in the shadow of your talented parents, whose talents gave them the opportunity to work with royalty. One day, you receive an invitation to a royal ball, most likely courtesy of your parents affiliation. You expected to see many beautiful women and handsome men dancing about. What you weren't expecting was to have a run in with the mysterious, dark haired Prince. A run in that would change your life forever.Rated Teen for now, but will escalate to Explicit in the later chapters.**I'm so sorry guys, things have been very tough and life keeps throwing crap at me. I love this story and I love Beauty and the Monster as well, I WILL NOT be giving either of them up, but updates will more than likely be slower.**





	1. Chapter 1

You sigh for the upteenth time today, watching your mother frantically raid your closet for a nice gown that you can wear. “Mother, I’ve already told you that I don’t have anything near nice enough for the ball. Besides, you’re the one who makes my clothes, shouldn’t you know precisely what is in my wardrobe?” Your mother shoots you the ‘shut up’ look. “Sarah, I could have sworn I made you a dress fit for a princess! Now, come and help me look, Gods know you have to have _something_ here to wear,” your mother huffs out, becoming more and more frustrated by the second. You roll your eyes, but get up to help your mother. 

After what seems like a lifetime, you both finish looking through your wardrobe. You’ve always been a mama’s girl, so your mother went overboard with making you clothes throughout the years. You wipe the small bead of sweat forming on your forehead and turn to your mother, a smirk on your face as you say, “I told you so. I don’t have anything in here, mother.” Your mother sighs dramatically, but gives in. “Alright, we will go dress shopping as soon as your father finishes the rings he’s been working on all week. Might as well get myself a dress as well, seeing as I’ll be up on stage again, can’t keep wearing the same few dresses.” You internally whoop in victory, excited to get out of the house.

Your mother has a magnificent singing voice, and more times than not she is commissioned by the King and Queen to sing for their parties and balls. Your father is a famous jewelry maker, he fashioned the King and Queen’s crowns as well as their wedding bands. Being the daughter of two very prominent, famous figures is very stressful, especially when you didn’t inherit your mother’s amazing voice or your father’s handmade goods skills. You’re just… you. Your stubbornness and sarcastic way of speaking could be considered your specialty, though. No one can out-sass you. 

Wanting desperately to see how your father is doing on the pair of rings for your cousin’s wedding, you clean up the mess you and your mother made in your wardrobe and practically fly down the stairs and into the small shed in your backyard. Not wanting to scare your father, you slowly open the door and peek your head inside. “Father? I came to see how your masterpieces are coming along!” You see your father set down something and usher you in. You rush over to him and plop down into a chair next to his. He holds up one of the rings, a beautiful golden band with crystals all around it, a large diamond in the center. “I made this one specifically for Astrid, since she always used to talk about the constellations. I wanted to make her wedding band sparkle like the stars,” he explains, putting the ring down in the appropriate velvet box. He picks up the other ring, this one the same golden band, but with feathers carved into the metal. “And this one is for Arne. Seeing as his name means Eagle, I figured the feathers would fit perfectly.” You pat your father on the back. “Wow, father, they’re both amazing! I’m sure Astrid is going to cry when she sees them.” Seeing your father’s eyes light up when you tell him how amazing his works are is something you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of.

After kissing your father on the cheek and rushing back into your house, you tell your mother that he’s finished and that since the ball will be in only half a day, you both should get a move on dress shopping. After changing into something a bit fancier than your loungewear, you and your mother head down to the center of the market. You weren’t concerned about finding a dress for yourself, as you aren’t too picky on what you wear. You were more interested in dressing your mother up in different gowns, as your mother looked stunning in the overly fancy wear. Though she may be old in years, she looks as young as ever, maybe even only a few years older than yourself. She was always smearing creams on her skin and eating healthy to stave off wrinkles, and it has worked perfectly. You always wished you could look like your mother. She had the most beautiful, long brown hair that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, spotless olive skin, and deep hazel eyes. Your father had the same olive skin and dark hair, but his eyes were a pretty sea green. Meanwhile, you have freckles spotted over your (S/C) arms, usually frizzy, (long) blonde hair, and sensitive blue eyes, so you tend to squint a lot. It’s not as if you felt that you were ugly, you just simply thought you were average, that there was much to improve upon. Maybe you’ll ask your mother for some of her creams.

The walk to her favorite dress shop was relatively short as the streets were quite barren, most people probably planning on what to wear to the ball. It was almost a miracle that you were on the invitation this year, as you’ve never been invited before. Perhaps, since you are nearing your twenty-third birthday, that they think you mature enough? Or maybe your mother bragged about you to someone of a higher status, that you wouldn’t put past her. You’re the light of her life after all. 

Your mother swings open the door to the shop. “Hilde,” she calls out. “You’d better be here right now! Sarah and I require dresses for the ball!” Within seconds, you see Hilde come around the corner the fitting stalls are in, her wheat colored hair in an impeccable bun as usual, green eyes shining. “Ah, Sigrid, Sarah, how wonderful it is to see you again! T’would be my pleasure to show you some of the newest dresses I’ve fashioned,” she says, ushering you both into the back of the store. “You see, some of these dresses aren’t even for sale yet as they are so new. I’ve yet the time to price them! How about you and Sarah pick which one you like and I’ll gift it to the both of you seeing as you’ve been a loyal customer for many years.” Your mother squeals in delight, “Oh Hilde! You’re simply the best! Thank you, thank you!” She hugs Hilde tightly, the older woman returning the hug.

Hilde sifts through the dresses and picks out a gown for your mother to try on. It was a long, flowing gown the color of pearls. It was very modest up top, the bottom flaring out with sparkles all around. To say your mother looked beautiful in it would be an understatement! “Mother, this is certainly the gown you need to wear tonight. You look ethereal in it!” Your mother blushed in embarrassment, but thanked you. “Sarah, love, we need to pick a gown for you now!” Your mother’s favorite part about going dress shopping with you was to put you in every gown she deemed pretty enough. Your mother always dreamed you would marry someone royal or rich and live a lavish life, so she must be extremely excited for tonight’s ball. She leaned in and whispered something to Hilde, who beamed a megawatt smile as she looked you up and down. She dove into the pile of dresses she has and then came back with a large ball gown. It was simply enchanting. It was the color of the forest, with golden stitching all over the bottom in the shape of branches and leaves. In the back of the dress, the leaves and branches seemed to crawl up where your spine would be. The top of the dress had golden stitching along the v-neckline, with small crystals sparkling over the golden stitching.

You stood in awe for what felt like eternity. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the dress, it was like something out of a fairytale. “Hilde.. I’m not sure I can accept this. This gown is fit for a _queen_ ,” you attempt to explain. Hilde shushes you, “M’dear, this dress will make you the princess of the ball. The Princes will be there and I can assure you that this dress will make everyone, including the Princes’, heads turn.” Oh, that’s right. You completely forgot that the two crowned Princes would be there at the ball. Realizing this made you even more uncomfortable accepting the dress. “Even if it were to do just that, I don’t exactly want the attention of the Princes. They’re to marry princesses, Hilde. I’m just a common village girl.” Your mother scoffs and grabs the dress. “Hilde, don’t listen to her. Thank you so much for this, you’re doing us both a huge favor. Ignore what Sarah says, she’ll wear this dress with pride. I will make sure to catch up with you and talk to you all about it!” Hilde just laughs and waves as your mother drags you and your dresses out the door.

You’re completely silent the entire way home, drowning out your mother’s incessant talking about how pretty you’ll look and how you should do your hair. When you get home, you flop onto your bed and let out a giant sigh. You knew you would have to meet people of higher status, but you completely forgot that since it was a royal ball in the palace, the Princes will be there. You don’t know much about them, having seen them only a handful of times, but you’ve heard rumors around the grapevine. Prince Thor is a ladies man, almost always covered in beautiful maidens. Word is that he sometimes sneaks out at night to visit said beautiful maidens. You can’t deny that he’s exceptionally handsome, with his semi-long golden hair, baby blue eyes, and perfectly trimmed facial hair. However, he’s a bit too manly for your tastes. If you had to choose, you would certainly pick Prince Loki. He tends to stand in the back when out with his family. His pale complexion contrasts gorgeously with his ink black hair. He’s not as rugged as his brother, having a more subtle masculine look to him. To you, he was complete perfection, even if there are rumors he dabbles in dark magic. All the more mysterious, then! Though, it’s not as if you’ll ever get the chance to even be near him anyways.

Knowing you still have quite a few hours left until you have to get ready, you close your eyes and drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of dancing the night away with a handsome Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small brain child of a fic that wouldn't leave my head until I wrote down every aspect of the story  
> and at least started it.  
> Ástvinur means beloved!  
> It's going to be a slow burn, friends to lovers kind of fic.  
> I don't want it to be _too_ slow, but the smut won't be anytime soon (sorry!)  
>  Hopefully I can work on Beauty and the Monster as well. I've been losing my motivation for that one  
> seeing as it isn't a totally new concept.  
> I'll try my hardest though!


	2. Chapter 2

You awake to the sound of your mother screeching your name like a harpy. “Sarah! What in the Gods names are you doing?! You should be nearly dressed and ready to go!” You sit up and glance out your bedroom window, panicking when you realize it’s almost dark out. “Mother, I’m sorry! I simply wanted a small nap.” Your mother sighs and drags you out of bed. “Well come on, we need to rush to get you ready. Let’s figure out what to do with your hair.” You put on a robe and sit down in front of your vanity. Your mother starts by brushing out all of your tangles, and since you recently slept, your hair looks like a bird’s nest. You always swore your mother must be a sorceress, because she can untangle your hair in the blink of an eye without so much as a wince from you. Not that you’re complaining, of course. After your hair is looking more like actual hair, your mother pours some oil onto her hands and runs it through your strands, making them feel nice and hydrated. She begins by pulling your hair up into a tight ponytail, separating about a half an inch of the ponytail and making it into a braid. After she uses the rest of the ponytail to make a pristine bun, she uses the braid to wrap around the bun and pins the braid to make sure it doesn’t uncoil from the bun. When all is done, you can’t believe the transformation your hair just went through. You looked - dare you say it - _regal_. “Mother, thank you so much, my hair looks amazing!” Your mother just smiles at you and motions towards your dress. You hurry over and pull it over your head, careful not to mess up your hair. 

When you’re done putting on your dress and smoothing it out, you take a look in the mirror and barely recognize yourself. Your mother finishes the look with a necklace of diamonds with matching earrings your father gave her for their wedding. You looked magnificent, a word you never thought you would ever associate with yourself. After ogling yourself for a good while, your mother clears her throat. “Dear, I think we had better go. I have some nice shoes downstairs that you can wear.” You, not being accustomed to wearing such a large dress, awkwardly make your way down the stairs, nearly tripping a few times. You pop on the small heels and head out back to kiss your father goodbye while you wait for your mother to dress. Thankfully, she’s always been fast at such seeing as she’s so used to going to the balls. She and your father hug and kiss, and off you two go, deciding to walk the whole way to the castle since the weather is glorious. 

Your house is only about a twenty minute walk, but with heels on your feet, the entire walk feels like Hel. “Mother, why do women wear such horrid things on their feet? It feels as if my feet are being squished.” Your mother chuckles. “Darling, you are aware that your heel is barely an inch, right? Don’t worry, you’ll forget all about it once you find a handsome man to dance the night away with,” she teases, winking at you. You can’t help but blush. You’ve always been more of an independent kind of girl, just being yourself, not worrying about what society thinks. But now that you’ve been invited to a royal ball of all places, you can feel the stress of having to be prim and proper. Not that you mind, though. Being pampered feels quite nice, and you’re sure when you get there that you’ll immediately want to be invited back. Who wouldn’t want to go to a royal ball?

The closer you both get to the castle, the more nervous you become, however. The castle is enormous, towering high in the sky, looking as if the entire outside was made of gold. It makes for an impressive looking castle, but it’s almost _too_ royal looking. When you and your mother arrive at the entrance, you nearly gasped as you ascended the stairs. The doors at the entrance alone were made of marble so white it almost blinded you. It had veins of gold running through it, and the handles seemed to be made of gemstones. It was overwhelming, and you haven’t even entered yet! You make your way up the stairs, the guards stationed at the front greeting you with a curt, “My Lady,” which made your heart skip a beat. You both are ushered inside and shown the way to the ballroom. You bump into one of the guards, so lost in the amounts of gold, bronze, and marble that adorns the entirety of the castle’s inside. Your mother links arms with you and pulls you to the ballroom, which, if you had to guess, was more than likely ten times the size of your house, and since your family is quite well off, your house is quite large. The ballroom had the same marble, gold, and bronze theme, but the ceilings were adorned with maroon tapestry and beautiful, glistening chandeliers. You were in complete and utter awe.

After the stupor wore off, courtesy of your mother pinching you rather harshly, you look around at all of the guests of the ball. You (rather smugly) notice that most of the women aren’t in as lavish a gown as you are. While that works to feed your ego, it also makes you quite nervous as you can see some of the women giving you nasty looks. You suck in a large breath and put on a small smile, trying not to let the looks get you down. You turn to your mother, or rather, where your mother was supposed to be standing, but she’s nowhere to be found. You walk around searching for her for a few minutes with no luck. When you hear a very deep, authoritative voice carry throughout the ballroom, you stop and look at the source. King Odin stood on a balcony overlooking the ballroom, looking as Kingly as ever. His armor seemed to be made of pure gold, his eyepatch as well. “Welcome everyone, I would like to announce the start of this year’s ball with a performance by the talented, Sigrid. Tonight is a night for celebration, so please, enjoy yourselves!” Everyone cheers as your mother gets up on a small stage situated on a balcony, much like the one Odin stood on but larger. So that’s where your mother went, what a sneaky woman. Clearly she wanted to try and push you to socialize, which unfortunately isn’t something you’re the best at. You walk towards one of the sides of the ballroom, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible for now. You wanted to assess the situation, the dancing, and what men you could clearly tell are looking for dancing partners.

After dreamily watching the women dance for quite a while, their dresses swishing in time with the music, you’re startled when someone puts a hand on your left shoulder. You turn to see who it is, thinking maybe it would be your mother, as she was not singing for this particular song, but to your dismay it was a rather short and stout man. He must have been about your height, partially balding, what hair he had looked unkempt and greasy. His image certainly did not match the rather expensive looking clothes he wore. He held a rather dirty looking hand out to you. “My my, what is such a .. _delectable_ looking woman such as yourself doing all alone?” He moved closer to you, so close you could tell he was most definitely not wearing cologne. You suppress a shiver, not wanting to offend someone who looks like he was a walking nightmare, and manage to squeak out a weak, “Not one for dancing, sir.” He threw his head back and laughed like a horse, grabbing your hands in his and dragging you rather harshly into the dancing crowd. “Nonsense,” he exclaimed over the music, “I’ll show you how a real man dances.” 

The creepy man places his hand very low on your waist, his other hand holding your left hand tightly. He motions for you to put your right hand on his shoulder. You begrudgingly do as he requests. The man proves to be a rather sloppy dancer, stepping on your feet often. He also proves to be a rather perverted man, pulling you into him as if on accident so he can sniff your hair. You hold on for as long as possible, going through nearly three songs with him before you’ve had enough. “Sir, I’m quite sorry, but I’m rather tired and I feel slightly dizzy. I’m afraid I will need to sit down after this song is over.” He gives you a nasty, hair raising grin. “Oh no, my dear, you’re going to dance the entire night with me. I doubt I could find a more physically pleasing lady elsewhere,” he says, his hand on your waist going to rest on your rear as he pulls you impossibly close to his body. You attempt to protest again but he willingly ignores you. 

The horror and disgust on your face must have been very evident, as not even a few seconds go by before you hear a smooth, but angry voice behind you. “I’m sorry, _Lord Olav_ , but we do not tolerate men throwing themselves like beasts at women who are clearly unwilling.” The man is ripped away from you by two guards, growling and cursing. “I’m quite sorry, my Lady. Had we known that he would assault anyone like that, we would never have invited him.” You turn around to thank the man who had saved you, only to be face to face with none other than Prince Loki. All at once, the air in your lungs is promptly squeezed out. You wrack your brain for a proper way to thank a Prince, choosing to just wing it. “My Prince, I am forever indebted to you. How can I repay such kindness? You truly saved me,” you say softly, dipping into a deep curtsy. You may have never met royalty, but you were taught proper manners. Prince Loki chuckles, “My Lady, please stand up. How about you join me for a dance? I believe a dance would be proper repayment.” He holds out a hand to you, waiting for your answer. You choose simply to put your hand in his and smile, not trusting yourself to say something eloquent enough. 

And with that, you’re whisked away to dance with the Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is chapter 2! Loki may seem OOC at first, but don't worry. Reader will be seeing his darker side at some point, he can't keep it from her forever. But I don't want Loki to be a huge dick the entire time, I mean he _is_ a Prince, after all. He has to sound eloquent and seem kind in front of society. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado, here is chapter 3! Sorry for the delay, work has been so busy lately.  
> I work the next 4 days in a row, so hopefully I'll have time to bang out a couple more chapters during my shifts!

Prince Loki drags you to the middle of the dance floor, quickly pulling you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other taking your hand in his. You shakily put your other hand on his shoulder, trying desperately not to show how nervous you are. He seemed to notice how nervous you were, for as soon as the song was about to start, he gently rubbed his thumb over your hand, saying, “Relax, my Lady. Forget for now that I bear the title of a Prince. Right now, I am simply a gentleman wanting a dance with a beautiful woman.” You feel yourself flush at being called beautiful, but you smile gratefully, feeling your body begin to relax. 

Dancing with Prince Loki is nothing short of amazing (and a little bit embarrassing). He dances so elegantly, not missing a single beat. You struggle a little bit to keep up, messing up a few times. Each time you mess up, Loki covers it up be twirling you, chuckling when he notices how red your cheeks are. Time seems to fly by, the song ending much too soon for your liking. Reluctantly you both pulled away, you dipping into a deep curtsy. “Thank you for the dance, my Prince. I had a wonderful time,” you say, softly smiling. He grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. “My Lady, I had a magnificent time myself. If you would like, as I can see your cheeks are rather flushed, would you accompany me for a stroll through the palace’s garden for some fresh air?” You cannot believe your ears. The Prince was asking you to take a walk with him? All you can do is nod, Loki chuckling at the confused and mystified look that’s adorning your face. He takes your hand and leads you away from the ball.

Once outside of the ballroom, Loki leads you through a series of hallways, you sincerely hope he will be kind enough to escort you back as you don’t think you will be able to remember the path. You take a few more twists and turns, and then you’re in the gardens. The sight of all the flowers is nearly overwhelming - there has to be thousands of them! You feel a sense of peace wash over you, the scent of flowers always calms you down, until you remember that Loki is standing right behind you. You turn around, ready to apologize for ignoring him, but you see him smiling at you rather fondly. “I take it that you adore flowers, am I correct, my Lady?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “Yes, my Prince -” you begin to say, but he cuts you off, “Please, you may call me Loki when it is just the two of us.” You feel incredibly uncomfortable calling a Prince by his first name, but since he asked, you obey. “Yes, Loki. I’m quite fond of flowers. Their scent helps ease my nerves. And, if I may ask of you, please call me Sarah.” You congratulate yourself on saying all of that without stuttering. Loki chuckles and links his arm with yours, “Alright, Sarah, let me show you all of the flowers this garden has. I’m sure you’ll be shocked at how many types we actually have.” 

Loki parades you through the mass of flowers, giving you little tidbits on each type. You can’t help but feel that this is a bit intimate, especially for a Prince and a commoner, but you go with it. Loki is very sweet and quite charming after all. After what seems like mere minutes, you and Loki have already walked through the entire garden. He leads you to a stone bench in the middle and you two sit down. Everything is quiet and calm, but you’re rather curious and gain a bit of confidence to ask, “Loki, you seemed to know so much about the flowers. Do you perchance enjoy reading?” Reading could be a touchy subject for some, as not everyone learned how to read. But you figured that he must read or at least has been taught about the fauna. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I love to read. I see it as a fantastic way to learn, and a way to escape into another world for a while.” You break out into a huge smile, “I agree! I love to read fairy tales and stories about other worlds.” You begin to feel a bit more comfortable talking to Loki knowing that you both have a common interest. “Do you read often? It’s been some time since I’ve last read, unfortunately,” you admit. “I read almost every day. You may think being a Prince is fun, but it’s actually rather dull. Seeing as my oaf of a brother will be King, I don’t have as many Princely duties, which allows me the time to read,” he explains as you notice his hand on the bench has gotten closer to yours than it previously was. Pushing that aside, you decide to ask the important question, “Seeing as you’ve most likely read many books then, which one is your favorite?” He smirks, “My dear Sarah, you mean to make me choose? Fair enough, I would have to choose “Of Silver”, by Sigurd.” Your eyes near pop out, he likes the same book as you! “That book is my favorite as well, my mother used to read it to me when I was small. I’m quite surprised you would like such a romance-heavy fantasy novel, Loki.” You can’t help but giggle when his brows furrow, but before he can respond, you both hear a chiming bell in the distance, which marks the end of the ball.

Reluctantly, you both stand up, neither of you wanting to leave now that you’ve found common ground. “I believe I should escort you back to your mother, Sarah. I’m sure she’s wondering where you may have gone.” Loki links his arm with yours again as you nod solemnly, not wanting things to end. When you arrive back at the ballroom, Loki turns to you and grabs your hand, kissing the back of it. “I had a spectacular time with you, Sarah. I do hope I will see you again.” You softly smile. “I certainly hope so as well.” With one last kiss to your hand, he saunters away. 

After a few minutes of squeezing through the mob that’s trying to leave, you spot your mother. When she sees you coming towards her, she smiles and rushes to hug you. “Oh my sweet little angel, did you have fun today?" She asks as soon as you escape her bear hug. “Yes mother, I hope I get to come to the next ball!” You can see your mother is happy to hear that. You had been dreading the ball for a month, but seeing as she constantly goes to them, she wanted you to enjoy your time as much as she always does. When you two get home, you rush upstairs to take your gown off, carefully hanging it up. You put on your favorite nightgown and climb into bed, fully aware that sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. 

You spend the next few hours replaying everything that happened before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :) I wanted Loki and reader to have something in common, something that they can gush about together, as that usually makes people grow closer. Also, I love reader's mama. I'm modeling her after my own in terms of how loving and silly she is. My mom is certainly a doting mother, but also a definite weirdo!


	4. Update

Hey guys! So, work has been crazy busy lately so I haven't had as much time to work on this fic and my other one, Beauty and the Monster.   
Due to the increase of bullshit my superiors like to shove onto me (being a secretary sucks), the next chapter will more than likely take a while to do, as when I'm not working at my job,  
I'm working at home to take care of my aunt who is going through chemo.

So basically, my life is work, taking care of my aunt, and sleeping. Occasionally I can get out and see a friend, but life doesn't seem to want me to do much else.  
I'm so sorry guys, things have been very tough and life keeps throwing crap at me. I love this story and I love Beauty and the Monster as well, I _**WILL NOT**_ be giving either of them up,  
but updates will more than likely be slower.

Hopefully you can forgive me!

 

With love,  
Sera


End file.
